


Midnight Blue

by purgatorymaybe



Series: Welcome to the Danger Zone [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, CIA Agent Dean, Christmas Fluff, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, F/F, F/M, M/M, Russian Castiel, SO SORRY, Secret Relationship, They are so cute, Will add tags as I go, and very horny, especially cas, making myself cry just thinking about it, sort of, until it's not
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-26
Updated: 2017-09-05
Packaged: 2018-05-16 10:36:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5825242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purgatorymaybe/pseuds/purgatorymaybe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Or: In Which Dean Has Been Lying For The Past Ten Years, Cas Is Actually An Ex-Russian Assassin, Mary Thinks Sarah Is Cheating On Sam, And John Is Just Trying To Keep Everything Together</p><p>Taken from a not-dating au:</p><p>"My parents thought I was working for an insurance company in New York when really I was joining the CIA so I just sort never mentioned when I met you on an assassination-gone-wrong and now we've been married for five years and they still don't know you exist, this has gone wildly out of hand and you still won't stop laughing about it"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In Which Cas Missed His Husband And Dean Just Wants To Sleep

Dean dropped face-first onto the couch, too exhausted to even slip off his shoes. His flight got in half past midnight, and all he'd been wanting to do for the past two and a half weeks was go home and have lots of sex with his husband. This particular extraction was only supposed to take three days, but of course his undercover position just had to be compromised, extending the stay by fifteen days. He could have been back here fifteen days ago, testing the new soundproof walls they put in their bedroom.

Nimble fingers made quick, quiet work of removing all four layers of clothing (Croatia was especially chilly this year), softly brushing through his hair. "You could have called when you landed."

"Didn't wanna wake you," Dean mumbled. "Got a cab."

"I like kissing you in airports."

Dean snorted. "Ya mean givin' me a blowjob in the men's room."

The other man's chest rumbled. "That too." He pressed the heel of his palm to Dean's shoulder blades. "I was worried, when you didn't come home. Thank you for the call on Saturday."

"Couldn't let you think I was dead."

The soothing (and slightly arousing) hand ceased the slow massage. "I thought you were," he whispered. "Your boss wouldn't look me in the eye when I went in last Tuesday. No one was telling me anything."

Dean turned his head, reaching his arm out to cup his husband's cheek. "Baby, you know they can't say anything. Word might get out to the wrong people, and me an' my guys could get hurt."

"Killed, you mean," he snapped. "I know it's confidential, but do they really not trust me? It's been seven years since I saved your life, five since I promised to treasure it for the rest of my own."

"I know, baby," Dean mumbled. "It isn't that they don't trust you, and it doesn't matter if they don't, because I do. They just can't risk losing anyone else."

"I'm sorry." He said stiffly. "I forgot- that was very insensitive of me."

"C'mere." Dean leaned up on his elbow, pulling the other man's forehead against his own. "I love you, Cas. You know I do."

The corner of Cas' lips twitched up. "I would have thought you'd be calling me something else."

"Baby, I feel like my bones are made of jelly. Let me get in a few hours of sleep first."

Cas kissed Dean's forehead. "Just a few. I have a meeting with Bela Talbot at seven in the morning, and I would very much like to fuck you into the new mattress."

Dean let out an involuntary moan. "Why can't I top?"

"Because we both know you're in no condition for what I have in mind."

Dean raised an eyebrow. "Oh? What d'you have in mind?"

"Something very intense. You have been gone for almost three weeks."

Dean groaned. "Cas,"

"Yes, love?"

"New mattress?"

Cas bared his teeth in a large grin that sent Dean's blood south. "The old set was getting squeaky."

"All you've gotta do is replace the box spring, then. What's with the new mattress?"

"Memory foam," Cas murmured, tugging Dean's bottom lip between his teeth. Dean whimpered. "I've been waiting for you to come home before I use it. Still has the plastic covering on."

"You been sleeping on the couch?"

"Air mattress."

"Kinky,"

"You would know. It's the one you nearly broke last year."

"Hey, you were the one who decided to try sucking yourself off while I was still inside you."

"I succeed in fitting the entirety of my own penis inside my own mouth."

"Sucking your dick is my job, okay?"

Cas kissed Dean gently. "Whatever you say, love."

"I say I miss my Mishka, so I want to big spoon tonight."

Cas' neck began to heat up under Dean's palm; he was blushing. "It's morning, Dean."

"I still want to hold my Mishka. Please?"

Cas huffed, kissing Dean gently. "I suppose that can be arranged. Do you want to move to the air mattress?"

"Nah. If I get on that thing, I don't think I'll get to sleeping anytime soon."

"And that's a bad thing?"

"Castiel,"

"Fine. Scoot over." Cas nudged Dean against the back of the couch, tucking his head under Dean's. He closed his eyes, running his hands across Dean's back. "I missed you," he said quietly. "For two weeks, I thought you were- that you wouldn't- that I'd be-"

Dean tilted his husband's chin up, pressing their lips together. "I love you. You know that, right?"

Cas laughed softly. "You had better. There's nothing else keeping me here."

"Here, the couch, or here, the U.S.?"

"Both," Cas whispered. He's almost afraid that if he says any more, he'd end up crying. He doesn't want to cry. There had been too many nights in the past two weeks when he'd go to sleep wearing one of Dean's sweatshirts and woke up crying.

He counts himself lucky that Dean isn't one to press for details, that his husband responds by pulling him closer and pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

"Your mother called today."

Dean groaned. "Babe. That's the worst thing you could possibly say right now."

"I thought you wanted to sleep." Cas punctuated the word by biting into the skin at Dean's collarbone. Dean bit back a moan. "What'd she wa-ahh!-nt?" Cas licked up the side of Dean's neck, from the dip in his shoulder to the lobe of his ear. "She wants you to go to Lawrence for Christmas this year."

"That aahhh-all?"

"Mm. She said you should call more often. Once a month isn't enough, apparently."

"I guess I can- dammit Cas, yesyesyes right there- make room for- sweetmotherofpie- more calls. Anything else?"

"She wants you to bring your- and I quote- girlfriend. Or boyfriend, if you're still into...the male gender. Guys. Whatever. I don't care, as long as you're happy. Just bring someone around, even if it's just a friend from the company. Whatever it is you're doing up there." Cas raised an eyebrow. "Care to tell me why she's asking about a girlfriend?"

Dean leaned up on his elbow again. "So, uh, you know how the CIA is really big on secrecy?"

Cas folded his arms. "Go on."

"I mean, how was I supposed to tell my parents that their oldest son was joining a super secret organization that is so secret people hardly hear anything about it at all, and I could be dead within a week?"

Cas relaxed, but raised his chin. "Understandable. How do I factor into this?"

Dean laughed. "Babe, I was sent to kill you. I would have, if you weren't so damn...well, you. I almost did kill you." Dean tapped Cas' left shoulder, where a white scar remained from where Dean ripped the bullet out himself. "But you just had to be a good guy and kill the guy who was sent to kill me before I could kill you first."

"Not my fault I fell in love with you."

"The first words you spoke to me were 'If we ever get out of here alive, I'm going to fuck you into oblivion."

"You were sitting on my lap! How was I supposed to control my hormones when a very beautiful man was sitting on me?"

Dean tugged Cas up by his hair, crushing their mouths together. "I love your accent," Dean muttered. Cas rolled his hips up, swallowing a moan from Dean. "Do you think you can achieve orgasm on my accent alone?"

"Babe, I got hard the first time you opened your mouth."

"Why haven't you told your family about me?"

"Dmitri,"

Cas' eyes clouded over, and he dug his fingernails into Dean's hipbones. "Skazhi eto snoza," he murmured, teasing Dean's left earlobe between his teeth. Dean rolled his hips down. "Dmitri Krushnic,"

"Thought you needed a few hours of rest?" Cas teased.

"Want you so bad," Dean mumbled. "Missed you so much."

"Missed you too. Really, though, you need to rest."

"Don't wanna,"

Cas used his grip to flip Dean under him. "I'm not going anywhere. You just got back from Europe, and the jet lag can't be good for you." He kissed Dean slowly. "I would like for you to be well-rested and not in risk of falling asleep during intercourse."

"Cas," Dean whined.

"Shh, my love. In the morning, I promise."

"Mmhm. 'M gonna make you waffles," Dean mumbled.

"What kind?" Cas combed through the short hairs at Dean's neck. "I got blueberries today."

"Yum," Dean yawned, burying his nose in Cas' hair. "Blueberry waffles it is, then."

"I can't wait," Cas murmured.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am using Google Translate for all of the Russian in this work, so if you see a mistake, please let me know!
> 
> Also: updates will be sporadic, as I am working on several projects at once, so be patient, my young padawans.


	2. Where Everything Goes To Hell So Fast The Author Got Whiplash Just Writing This

"Ma, I'm fine. Yes, I'm eating. Yup, three meals a day. Ma, yes, I promise I'll be there. Yes, Ma, I'm driving."

"As if Dean Winchester would ever willingly fly in an airplane." Cas yawned. Dean covered the receiver and leaned over the back of the couch to kiss his husband's head. " _Utro, detka_." Dean whispered. He straightened. "Of course I'm driving the Impala, Ma!" Dean said loudly. "I don't have any other car."

"Come back to bed, _krasavchik_." Cas reached out and snagged a handful of Dean's undershirt. Dean swats his husband's hand away and points to the kitchen, where Cas sees a box of waffle mix, a mixing bowl and whisk, a bowl of washed blueberries, and the cast iron waffle iron. "Waffles," Dean mouths.

" _Net, poka ya poluchu svoy kofe_ ," Castiel grumbled.

" _Konechno_ ," Dean says fondly. "What? Oh, just something I picked up on the job. One of my…co-workers is from Russia, and he's been-" Dean grinned slyly at Castiel. "helping me learn the language. Never know when you might need it, y'know?"

"Like when your _muzh_ finds it incredibly arousing."

" _Poshel na khuy_ ," Dean called. "Nothing, Cas is just being a smartass."

In the kitchen, Castiel cringed, turning around to mirror Dean's wide-eyed look of shock. Cas heard "WHO IS CAS?" screech from the living room and abandoned the waffle mix to hold Dean's face between his palms.

" _Dyshat', lyubov' moya_ ," Cas muttered. He led Dean over to the couch and sat, pulling Dean down so that he was lying on his side, head in Castiel's lap. Castiel gently pried the phone out of his husband's hand, scratching Dean's scalp soothingly. "Mrs. Winchester, I am terribly sorry we had to meet like this."

"Who are you? Where's Dean? Where's my son?"

"Dean is…" Cas met Dean's eyes and raised his eyebrows. Dean nodded minutely and tilted his head back, a silently saying "keep doing that". Cas chuckled. "Dean is fine. He had a small panic attack."

"Panic attack?!" Mary screeched. "Is he okay? What happened?"

"He's fine," Cas assured her. "It was nothing compared to what I've been through." Castiel smiled when Dean rubbed his nose against a sliver of exposed skin at Castiel's midriff. "Dean is fine. You simply caught him off guard."

"And who are- I'm assuming you're Cas?"

"Yes, I am. Again, I apologize that I must introduce myself to you this way."

"Dean hasn't mentioned you before. Are you a new roommate?" Dean tugged on Castiel's arm and held his hand out. Castiel returned the cell phone and helped Dean sit up next to Cas. " _Chto vy khotite skazat' yey_?" Cas whispered.

"Cas is…he's my boyfriend." Dean leaned his head on Castiel's shoulder. "Sorry babe," he whispered. "It's okay," Cas returned. "I understand."

"We met…um…through my job. He was a, um, he was a client." Castiel snorted. Dean shoved his shoulder, grinning. "Oh, hey, I'm gonna put you on speaker so Cas can be a part of this." He presses the speaker icon and sets the phone down on the coffee table.

" _Zdravstvuy, mama_ ," Cas says, and swiveled his head to see Dean beaming at him.

"Did he just…" Mary sounded emotional. "Did you just call me 'Mom'?"

" _Der'mo_ ," Cas muttered, pointedly ignoring Dean's stifled giggles. "I hope that's okay. My own _mamotchka_ died when I was very young, and my _sestra_ , my older sister _Anael'_ \- Anna- I haven't seen in years so-"

"Of course it's fine!" Mary cried out. "Yeah, oh sweetie, of course!"

"Thank you," Castiel smiled. " _Spazibo_ ,"

"I told you she'd love you," Dean teased. "He didn't believe me," he stage whispered into the phone.

"If I could whup you upside the head, I would, Dean Winchester."

"What? Why?!"

"If you were so sure I'd love him, why didn't you tell me about him sooner?"

"That would be my fault," Castiel said smoothly. "I wanted to make certain that Dean and I were in this for the long haul, and we'd only just moved into a new apartment together a month ago."

" _Ya tebya lyublyu_ ," Dean uttered softly. " _Ya tozhe tebya lyublyu_ ," Castiel returned, kissing Dean gently.

"You two are so adorable."

Dean rolled his eyes, but pressed a kiss to Castiel's forehead. "The adorable-est." He grinned at Castiel's wrinkled nose. "That is not a word," Castiel chastised. "You are ridiculous, Dean Winchester."

"You love me," Dean spoke confidently. "Castiel Winchester."

"Wait, what?! I thought you two just moved in together?"

" _Der'mo_ ," Dean hissed. "Um, okay, so there's actually a lot I need to explain."

"How much, Dean Michael Winchester?"

"Um. Seven years' worth?"

Mary Winchester's frigid silence only lasted six seconds, but her next words nearly froze Castiel's blood. "Dean Michael Winchester, you get your ass back home right now or you are no longer my son." She hung up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I apologize about how short this chapter is. I was going to add more, but I decided to go all "Evil Author's Cliffhanger". Sorry
> 
> 2\. This was going to be a fluffy filler chapter where Cas makes blueberry waffles and Dean seduces Cas, and so the waffles burn because he can't resist his beautiful CIA agent hubby
> 
> 3\. Sorry about the ending. I promised all will be well (as well as all can be with a MCD hanging over our heads)
> 
> Translations: (I tried writing them in beside the Russian words/phrases uses, but it didn't really work)
> 
> Utro, detka  
> "Morning, baby."
> 
> Krasavchik  
> "Pretty boy"
> 
> Net, poka ya poluchu svoy kofe  
> "Not until I get my coffee"
> 
> Konechno  
> "Of course"
> 
> Muzh  
> "Husband"
> 
> Poshel na khuy  
> "Fuck you"
> 
> Dyshat', lyubov' moya  
> "Breathe, my love"
> 
> Chto vy khotite skazat' yey?  
> "What do you want to tell her?"
> 
> Zdravstvuy, mama  
> "Hello mother"
> 
> Der'mo  
> "Shit"
> 
> Sestra  
> "Sister"
> 
> Spazibo  
> "Thank you"
> 
> Ya tebya lyublyu  
> "I love you"
> 
> ya tozhe tebya lyublyu  
> "I love you too"


	3. So Much Russian You'll Need A Dictionary (Or At Least Google Translate)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "YA znayu," Dean replied quickly. "YA znayu eto."
> 
> "Ya syn Piter Koshmar; ya ubil sotni lyudey."
> 
> "Dmitri, pozhaluysta." Dean begged. "Ya tebya lyublyu."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is almost four months late. This one's really short (a couple hundred words shorter than chapter two) but I promise next chapter will be much longer. I hope.

Castiel sat, frozen on the couch next to Dean, staring at the cellular device lying innocently on the coffee table. "Dean-"

Dean stood up and walked to their bedroom, shutting the door behind him. Castiel didn't hear the lock click. He closed his eyes and sighed, leaning forward so his elblows rested on his knees, rubbing his face tiredly. Castiel heard the bath start to run and the bedroom door swung open slowly, a silent invitation to join if he so wished. He did.

Castiel found his husband leaning against a the sink counter, breathing deeply. " _Prosti_ ," Dean whispered. "I should have told them the truth."

" _Vy zashchishchali ikh_ ," Castiel countered. Dean shook his head. "What if something had happened to me? What if I had died? They never would have known!" He brought his palms down on the marble counter hard. " _YA dolzhen byl skazat' im_." Castiel molded himself to his husband's back, reaching forward to entwine their fingers together. "Shh, _moya lyubov'_ ," he murmured.

__"Bath," Dean muttered, sliding out of Castiel's loose embrace._ _

"Dean, _malyutka_ -" 

" _Nyet_ ," Dean snapped, stripping quickly, tossing his clothes into a rumpled pile by the door. He twisted the knobs until the rush of water decreased to a slow drip, and slid into the steaming tub. Dean sighed, his head rolling to the side facing the bathroom. "Cas? _Dorogoy_?" 

" _Kakiye_?" 

" _Pozhaluysta_?" 

Castiel scoffed. "Unbelievable." 

Dean sat up, gripping the edges of the tub. "Cas-" 

"Dmitri," Castiel growled. " _Menya zovut Dimitriy Nabrav Krushnik i vy ne meshalo by pomnit' ob etom_." 

" _YA znayu_ ," Dean replied quickly. " _YA znayu eto_." 

" _Ya syn Piter Koshmar; ya ubil sotni lyudey_." 

"Dmitri, _pozhaluysta_ ," Dean begged. " _Ya tebya lyublyu_." 

"I lost my family because of you." 

"Baby, talk to me," Dean pleaded. "Please, just talk to me, what's wrong?" 

Castiel- Dmitri Tippens Krushic, the love of Dean Winchester's life, slumped to the bathroom floor, breathing heavily, tears streaking down his face. " _Ne_ -" Dmitri took in a shuddering breath. "Don't let me be responsible for you losing yours." And with that, he exited the bathroom, leaving Dean hanging half out of the bathtub. 

Dean heard drawers being opened and slammed shut and there was a tingling fear that his husband was- no. No way would Cas- Dmitri, whatever his name was, there's no way in hell he would ever- 

But he was. And Dean was still sitting in the bathtub like an idiot while his whole world was packing his bags, preparing to leave. 

"Fuck no," Dean growled, getting out of the tub. "Dmitri, you fucking- don't you d-" He slipped in a puddle of water that must have splashed out earlier. "Fucking hell," he cursed, quickly wrapping a towel around his lower body. Fuck jeans right now, he had to keep his husband from leaving him. 

"Dmitri, you better not-" 

The apartment was empty. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um. Okay. Y'all can yell at me if you want. It's okay. I've been yelling at me since I wrote it. I swear I'm gonna fix it. Soon. Promise.
> 
> Translations:
> 
> Prosti  
> "Sorry"
> 
> Vy zashchishchali ikh  
> "You were protecting them"
> 
> YA dolzhen byl skazat' im  
> "I should have told them"
> 
> Moya, lyublov'  
> "My love"
> 
> Malyutka  
> "Baby"
> 
> Nyet  
> "No"
> 
> Dorogoy  
> "Darling"
> 
> Kakiye  
> "What"
> 
> Pozhaluysta  
> "Please"
> 
> Menya zovut Dmitriy Nabrav Krushnik i vy ne meshalo by pomnit' ob etom  
> "My name is Dmitri Tippens Krushnic and you would do well to remember that"
> 
> YA znayu  
> "I know"
> 
> YA znayu eto  
> "I know that"
> 
> Ya syn Piter Koshmar; ya ubil sotni lyudey  
> "I am the son of Peter The Nightmare; I have killed hundreds of people"
> 
> Dmitri, pozhaluysta  
> "Dmitri, please"
> 
> Ya tebya lyublyu  
> "I love you"
> 
> Ne  
> "Don't"


	4. Or: Where Dean Enlists Some Help To Get His Husband Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Yeah," Charlie said weakly. "Real lucky. And look, Dean, I'm sorry we never told you, it's just- we were going to, I swear, but-"
> 
> "You got anything yet?"
> 
> "Almost," Charlie said, slipping from Apologetic Best Friend to CIA Tech Crew Foreman. "He's still in the continental U.S., for now. Thank fuck for New York traffic."

"He's gone," Dean gasped into the phone, feeling his throat constrict. He stared at the notepad sitting on the island in the kitchen, with one line written in perfect, precise Russian. "I lost him, Charlie. He left, and I don't know where and he left his phone here. I lost him, Charlie, he's gone, I'm never gonna find him."

"Stop," Charlie ordered. Dean stopped. "Breathe." Dean breathed; four counts in through the nose, eight counts out through the mouth. "Good," Charlie soothed. "Now, tell me what happened. Slowly, okay? You gotta stay calm."

"I can't stay calm, Charlie, my husband just ran away!" Dean snapped. "And the longer I'm standing here doing nothing, the farther away he's going to get, and he's going to hide, Charlie, he's good, he knows us, knows how to stay off our radar."

"Cas left?"

"Dmitri," Dean whispered. "Dmitri Tippens Krushnic, and we never should have forgotten that."

Charlie was silent on the other end. "Okay first off, I'm going to tell you something, and you have to promise you won't get mad."

"Charlene, if you're saying that, it means you know I'm not going to like what you're about to say."

"Iplantedatrackingdeviceinyourguys'weddingbands," she rushed out.

"Say that again," Dean commanded. "Please don't let that be what I think it is."

"There's a teeny tiny tracking device in yours and Cas- Dmitri's wedding bands," Charlie confessed. "It wasn't my idea, I swear on Fred Weasley's grave, but it was so we could keep you two safe."

Dean leaned against the marble countertop, feeling an overwhelming sense of relief. He's going to find his husband and bring him home. _Home,_ Dean thought weakly. _Dmitri is my home._ "You can find him?"

"Tracking the signal as we speak," Charlie confirmed.

"Oh god," Dean whimpered. "I can't lose him, Charlie. Not again."

"Hey," she said softly. "Two things."

"Yeah?"

"One, you didn't lose him last time. I know," she said quickly, "I know it came pretty close, and it was a very really possibility, but he pulled through. You pulled him back."

"I used to call his cell phone," Dean whispered. "Just to hear him talk. It took months, Charlie, and I could barely go through that. But at least I knew exactly where he was, you know?"

"And that brings me to number two. We're gonna find him, Dean. Let me do my thing, and you call Benny. Can you do that for me?"

"He's got a family, Charlie. I can't pull him into this."

"Dean Michael Winchester, pull your head out of your ass for ten minutes and realize that we are your friends and we would do anything for you."

"I'm sorry," Dean groaned, running a hand through his hair. "I'm so sorry, I just- my mom called this morning, and she's really not happy with me keeping secrets for seven years, and I pulled away and then I tried to fix it, but Dmitri got mad and now he's gone, and-" Dean gasped, tears welling up behind his eyelids. "I know that doesn't excuse anything, but my husband ran away, Charlie. I love him more than anything, and I can't even call him to let him know that."

"I know hon. But I'm working my magic, and you and Benny are gonna go get him soon as I know where he is."

Someone knocked on the front door and Dean sighed. "Call me when you find him, okay? I gotta go."

"Sure thing, boss!" Charlie chirped and ended the call.

Dean didn't want to answer the door. Granted, the only thing he wanted to do right then was find his husband (and maybe smack him upside the head a little- or fuck his brains out, or both, Dean wasn't picky), but having to go around as if nothing was wrong really irritated him.

The person behind the door knocked insistently. "Yeah, I'm coming," Dean called. "Gimme a sec." He breathed again- four in, eight out- and scrubbed a little at his face. "Charlie's gonna find him," he muttered. "There's a tracking device in his-" Dean stopped in front of the door and pulled out his phone, clicking on his tech's contact photo. "You put a tracking device in the _wedding bands_?" Dean demanded without preamble, swinging the door open. "One, who's idea was that exactly, and two-" he faltered. He held the phone to his chest. "Sam. What the fuck are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be in Connecticut with Sarah?"

Sam shrugged. "Mom called. I just wanted to drop by and see how you and Cas were doing." He waved at the phone clutched tightly in Dean's hand. "If it's Charlie, it's probably important. I can stop by another time, if you want?"

Dean desperately wanted to say 'yes, we're fine, go back home to your wife' but realistically he knew that he was going to have to tell Sam when the giant puppy called him next. He sighed. "No, get in here. I, uh, there's waffle mix on the counter if you want to eat something."

He led his brother into the kitchen, ripping off the top piece of paper from the legal pad and stuffing it in his pocket. "I'll be in the living room if you need anything." Dean put the phone back up to his ear and ground his teeth, remembering why he called Charlie back.

"You put tracking devices in our wedding bands," Dean said with a forced calm. "Tell me who's idea it was, how the hell you got them in there in the first place, and how, for the past five years, Dmitri and I had no clue."

"Um," Charlie startled. "It was Ash's idea first, mainly because he had been going back and forth about something to keep track of Dmitri-"

"He is in the Witness Protection Program," Dean hissed. "Everyone was already keeping track of him."

"I know, I know," Charlie placated. "Which was why Rufus never actually did anything, but then you guys got together and you started bringing him along on missions-"

"Because the last time I left him, he almost died. Like hell I was going to let that happen again." He didn't even bother to correct her that he and Dmitri had a with-benefits... _thing_ going on way before Dmitri's coma.

"Dean, please. Just listen, okay?" Charlie pleaded. "So when you and Dmitri started dating, Rufus saw it as kind of a security risk or whatever, and he had Ash and me looking into stuff. But because your hubby is an intelligent piece of ass, we couldn't really find anything that we could conceal easily without him finding it. Or you," she added quickly. "Because you're not an idiot, you're trained to look for that stuff."

"So how-" Dean sat down on the couch. "How'd you put them in the rings?"

"So the rings have, like, an interior band? And there's a line of micro chips there, under the exterior casing."

"Stupid diamonds," Dean groaned.

"Moissanite," Charlie corrected. "But yeah, having those definitely helped conceal the chips."

"Fucking _lab diamonds_."

"Yeah," Charlie said awkwardly. "Um. Sorry?"

Dean rubbed the side of his face. "Charlie, you are insanely lucky that this stunt is helping us find the love of my life right now, otherwise I'd be storming into the office and demanding yours and Ash's resignations."

"Yeah," Charlie said weakly. "Real lucky. And look, Dean, I'm sorry we never told you, it's just- we were going to, I swear, but-"

"You got anything yet?"

"Almost," Charlie said, slipping from Apologetic Best Friend to CIA Tech Crew Foreman. "He's still in the continental U.S., for now. Thank fuck for New York traffic."

"Thank god," Dean whimpered.

"I'll let you know if anything changes. In the meantime-"

"Yeah," Dean sighed. "I'll call Benny," he promised, and hung up. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, clutching his phone in his hands. "God, Dmitri," Dean whimpered. "Please come back."

Sam rapped his knuckled on the entryway frame. "Dean?"

Dean held up his hand, breathing deeply as he waited for the dial tone to stop. "Lafitte home," came Andrea's New Orleans drawl. "Who's this?"

"Morning, Andrea. It's, uh. It's Dean. Is Benny there?" He heard Andrea pause before answering. "He's making breakfast. What do you need him for?"

"Cas is missing." Dean wiped at his face. "Shouldn't take more'n a few days to find him, but I could use some help."

"I'll hand over the phone," Andrea said gently. "You just sit tight, cher, I'm sure you'll find him quick'n easy."

"I hope so."

"And when you do, bring him on down so I can give him a good whack upside that pretty head of his."

"Yes, ma'am," Dean promised.

"Alright. Here's Benny for ya." Dean glanced up at Sam and chewed on his bottom lip. "Hey, Benny?"

"What's up, cher?"

"I know we just got back, but I could really use your help right now."

"So I heard." Benny said slowly. "What, he finally get bored of playin' nice?"

"Benny," Dean growled. "I am perfectly aware that no on this goddamned earth trusts Dmitri as far as they can throw him, but I already have Charlie tracking his location, and I am going to do whatever it takes to get his ass back home by the end of this week with or without your help."

Dean heard static as Benny sighed into the mouthpiece, and then the sound of the dial tone. "Fucking son of a-"

His phone chimed as a text came in. _'Let me know when Charlie has a lock on him. I'll get the first flight out tomorrow.'_

_'Thanks man. I'll pick you up from the airport.' _Dean tried to swallow past the lump in his throat. _'Really appreciate it.'_ __

_'Throw in one of those lattes you hate and I won't even bitch about him.'_

_'Deal.'_ He set his phone on the coffee table. "Alright," he said said gruffly. "What do you wanna know." 

"What happened to Cas?" Sam asked quickly. 

Dean inhaled four beats and exhaled eight. "He left an hour ago. Charlie's working on tracking him down, and as soon as she's got a lock, I'll let Benny know, and we'll go after him." 

"What happened?" Sam asked softly. "Mom sounded upset on the phone earlier, that you didn't tell her you got married, but I didn't think-" 

"Cas- Dmitri- he thinks he's protecting me. He just...he lost a bunch of his family when we took him from Russia- he knows it was to protect him, but still- and he doesn't want to rip me from mine." 

"Look, you can rip me a new one later, but really?" Sam scoffed. "That's honestly the stupidest thing I've heard, and I'm a lawyer, I've heard a lot of stupid things." 

__"Look, it's awesome that you dropped by to check up on us, but my husband ran away this morning and every minute you're about to start lecturing me, the further away he gets, and the less likely it is that I'm ever going to see him again." Dean exhaled shakily. "So if you could please just stow your self-righteous crap and sit down and eat your fucking waffles, that'd be great." His chest shook and a wet scream tore out of his throat as the gravity of the situation really sunk in._ _

__"Oh god," Dean gasped. "He left. He- how could he just leave?" He cried. "He said he wouldn't- that he'd never-"_ _

__"Dean?" Sam rushed to his brother's side. "Dean, I need you to breathe for me."_ _

__"I want him _back_!" Dean sobbed. "I want him _home_."_ _

__"And you're gonna," Sam assured him. "You've got Charlie and Benny helping, you're gonna get him back in no time."_ _

__"I love him." Dean keened. "We- we were gonna try to adopt, y'know? Got all the paperwork done before I left two weeks ago."_ _

__"Dean, I swear, you are going to find your pain-in-the-ass husband." Sam asserted. "And when you get back, I'm going to help you two get a kid, okay?"_ _

__Dean took in a shuddering breath, clinging to his younger brother's shirt. "Yeah," he said hoarsely. "Yeah, okay." He sat up, breathing deeply. "God, what a fucking day," he groaned. Dean stared at his phone, doing the breathing exercises again. "Breakfast," he muttered. "Did you actually cook any waffles, or were you just eavesdropping the whole time?" Sam had barely finished muttering "not the whole time" when the chorus of Walking on Sunshine trilled from Dean's cell phone, still sitting on the coffee table._ _

__"I got him," Charlie rushed out, after Dean tripped over his own feet to pick up. "He- Dean, he's in _Kansas_."_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! Such a long chapter, which I'm sure y'all are over the moon about.
> 
> So in preparation for how Charlie and The Crew were going to track Cas, I did a little research on micro gps chips. In wedding rings, it's mostly experimental or whatever, and the chips are in the diamonds, and it's mostly for female rings (they're calling them "fidelity engagement rings"), which, so sexist! BUT. Since Charlie is a super genius and our buddy Ash is alive and well in this universe, I'm sure they've got some awesome tricks up their sleeves. Which, according to Charlie, is super awesome, if Cas and Dean hadn't figured it out after five years. (I'm kind of in love with Charlie, if you can't tell)
> 
> And, oh, look, a moose out in the wild! How exciting!! I wanted to have a kind of tense argument scene, but I didn't know to write it, because mostly Dean just kept being really mopey. I mean, he has all the rights to, his husband just up and disappeared on him!
> 
> Speaking of our darling angel.....next chapter will be from his perspective. Yay, a peek into that brilliant Russian mind!
> 
> No translations this time! Probably quite a few next chapter.


	5. In Which The Author Got Writer's Block and Had To Cut It Short

_"I lost my family because of you."_

_"Baby, talk to me," Dean pleaded. "Please, just talk to me, what's wrong?"_

_Castiel- Dmitri Tippens Krushic, the love of Dean Winchester's life, slumped to the bathroom floor, breathing heavily, tears streaking down his face. "_ Ne _-" Dmitri took in a shuddering breath. "Don't let be responsible for you losing yours." And with that, he exited the bathroom, leaving Dean hanging half out of the bathtub._

Dmitri rushed out to their bedroom, quickly stuffing several changes of clothes into a spare backpack. He took out the pad of paper he'd been hiding for six and a half years, with a simple line in Russian. " _Ya tebya lyublyu do kontsa samo vremya_ ," he whispered, tracing the words with his fingers. _I love you till the end of time itself_. Dmitri set it on the bedspread alongside his cell phone. He knew that with Charlie's help, Dean would find him soon after he left, but it would take more time without easy access to his cell's gps signal.

He heard water from the tub slosh around. "Dmitri, you fucking- don't you d-" The sound of bare skin slapping on tile made Dmitri wince, and he left through the fire escape, closing the window behind him carefully. He slipped down the fire escape with ease, swinging down to the ground and running to the busy street, easing smoothly into the steady stream of pedestrians.

He hailed a cab a block away from their apartment complex, muttering "JFK International" into the sliding partition and slumping down into the cigarette stench-infused leather of the backseat. " _YA skoro vernus'_ ," he muttered. " _Obeshchayu_."

Dmitri caught the driver's eyes in the rear view mirror. She had kind eyes, he noted. Mother's eyes.

"Now it ain't my business, but you've only got the one bag, and it don't look like you got much in there."

Definitely a mother.

"Not much, no." Dmitri admitted.

"You runnin' away, son?"

Dmitri shook his head. "Just a last minute trip. Visiting the in-laws."

Her license supported a name and a picture. LeeAnn Dolina.

"Your name. It's Russian?"

LeeAnn's eyes crinkled. "My grandad, yeah. How'd you know?"

"I moved from there seven years ago with-" Dmitri chuckled. "Well, he's been my husband for the past five years."

"Must be some guy, huh?"

Dmitri smiled. "I love him with all my heart." He shifted in the backseat. "And I never- really got- along, with his parents. Dean and I, we had a spat this morning. About them. I'm hoping I can alleviate the situation by meeting with them."

"Dean didn't wanna go with?"

"It was a very last minute decision."

LeeAnn's eyes held sympathy. "I really don't mean to pry into your private life-"

"No. No, you're fine." Dmitri sighed. "I will admit, though, that I did leave rather quickly, and without telling him where I'm going."

The cab is silent. "I suppose that constitutes running away, doesn't it."

"'Fraid so."

"I left my cell phone so he couldn't use the gps to track me."

"Really not lookin' good for you right now."

"Perhaps not," Dmitri murmured. "But this is something I have to do."

LeeAnn slammed on the horn as a red Fiat cut in front of the cab. "Hon, you basically just ran away from your husband. I don't know what you want me to tell you."

Dmitri sighed and turned his head to stare out the window. "I just want to make things right," he said softly. "There have been many tragedies in my life and I don't want my marriage to become one of them."

————————

The next flight to Kansas City left in half an hour. He paid with his card (Charlie would have his face running through all the cameras in the country by now, so there was no point in "hiding") and trudged through security, almost hoping for Dean to run in at the last minute and drag him back home.

But Dmitri goes through the airport with ease, and Dean never shows. He boards the plane on time and grips the armrests during takeoff.

———————————————

Dmitri takes the hour long drive from the Kansas City Airport to Lawrence in a rental car. It's small, blue, and the chemical-y stench, along with an underlying scent of cigarette smoke, reminds him of Dean, and Dmitri's heart aches at the thought of his husband.

He shouldn't be too far behind, now, Dmitri reminds himself.

Highway traffic isn't awfully congested, and Dmitri drives into Lawrence a little before noon. He parks the car at the end of the parking lot for a motel and and takes out the old coffee receipt he used to write down the address for Dean's father's auto repair shop. There are a few faces peeking out from behind window curtains of the motel, so Dmitri heads toward the check-in desk in the lobby.

The woman at the desk stands up straight as Dmitri walks in and narrows her eyes. Dmitri offers her the receipt. "Can you help me find this address?" He smiles apologetically. "I'm afraid I'm not too familiar with this town."

Her eyes flit over the address and narrow further. "What do you want with John Winchester?"

Dmitri sends a prayer to the gods that Dean will forgive him for this. "I'm his son's husband. Dean and I planned an impromptu trip to visit his parents, but we were separated at the airport and I haven't been able reach him on his cell phone."

"Winchester's Auto is closed right now for repairs." _Truth_. The woman- Alicia, her name tag reads- slides the receipt across the counter. "And I'm afraid I don't know John's home address." _Lie_.

Dmitri slips the paper into his pocket and gives Alicia a wide, fake smile. "May I at least use your phone to call Dean and let him know where I am?"

"Of course." Alicia gives him an equally fake smile and pulls a clunky, black telephone up to the counter. Dmitri nods in thanks and tries not to grimace at the tangled cord. He dials Dean's cell phone from memory (718-306-2614) and catches himself from wishing it to go to voicemail.

Then the dial tone stops and a terse " _Dean Winchester_ ," comes through. Dmitri's knees almost give out from relief.

" _Hello? Look, if this is one of those prank callers I'm gonna_ -"

Dmitri wants to drop to his knees and beg his husband's forgiveness right then. "Dean," he says, with forced cheerfulness. Alicia doesn't look impressed. "It's me, Cas."

" _You asshole_!" Dean hisses. Dmitri can hear lots of background chatter- is Dean still in New York, or has he already made it to Kansas City?

"I know, and I miss you too."

" _What the fuck were you thinking? Did you really think I'd let you get away from me again_?" Dean's shaky exhale translates into a blow of static against Dmitri's ear. " _You really- god, Dmitri_."

Dmitri turns away from the girl at the desk, dropping his plastered smile, his knuckles whitening from how hard he is gripping the phone to his ear. " _Mne ochen' zhal', moya lyubov'_ ," he mumbles. "How close are you? Do you want me to pick you up, or should I go ahead to your parents' home?"

" _Don't- Dmitri, just-_ "

"I'll meet you back at the airport, then," Dmitri says decisively. He pauses a breath before saying "I love you" and hangs up before he can hear Dean say it back.


	6. In Which the Truth Comes Out (Sort Of)- Part I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Four months!!!! I think that's some kind of record for me! Also, just so y'all know, I started college last week, so I've got a little less free time now that the summer is over. But, hopefully, I will have chapter 7 up before winter break, which is my goal to have the next chapter up by. Hope y'all enjoy this one!!

Dmitri finds Dean at baggage claim, pacing in front of the empty conveyor belt. His arms are folded tightly across his chest and his hair is sticking up wildly, as if he'd been running his hands through it all day. Dmitri's chest tightens. He really didn't mean to cause Dean so much worry.

Dmitri makes it six large strides towards his husband before someone blocks his way. Dmitri focuses on the other man's face and stiffens. "Benny," Dmitri says curtly.

Benny's light blue eyes held barely restrained fury. "You're lucky I'm not your handler anymore, Krushnic."

Dmitri peers over Benny's shoulder to see that Dean has stopped his pacing and is now standing still with hands in fists over his mouth, and Dmitri can see his eyes shining with tears.

"Agent LaFitte," the words come out in a rasp; Dmitri tries to swallow the knot in his throat. "I would like to go to my husband now, please."

Benny grips Dmitri's shoulder. "You hurt Dean like this again an' I'll finished the job he was s'posed to do seven years ago."

Dmitri tears his eyes away from Dean's, meeting Benny's unflinchingly. "I assure you, Agent LaFitte," he says quietly, "that if it ever comes to that, I will call you myself." He shrugs Benny's hand off and rushes the remaining ten feet to his husband. Dean throws his arms up around Dmitri's neck and burns any hesitation Dmitri had about hugging Dean close.

" _Mne ochen' zhal'_." Dmitri whispers.

Dean's hands grip the fabric of the back of Dmitri's shirt. "Fuck you," he says, the words muffled into Dmitri's neck with a slight wobble. He lifts his head, the heat of his glare softened by the redness around his eyes. "You just-" Dean punches Dmitri's shoulder, then grips it tighter, a wild, panicky look in his eyes. "You can't just fucking leave like that, okay? That's not- I thought-" Dean's face paled. "I thought you left me," he says hoarsely. "I thought you were gonna go back, and- and-" he pushes his face back into the crook of Dmitri's neck. "I can't lose you again."

"I didn't mean to hurt you," Dmitri says weakly. "But- and I see now that I did, and I am so sorry, _moya lyubov'_."

"You're so sleeping on the couch for the next five years." Dean meets Dmitri's eyes and smiles slightly. Dmitri lifts one of his hands from Dean's waist to cup his cheek, and waits for him to nod before Dmitri kisses the corner of Dean's mouth.

One of Dean's hands slide up Dmitri's neck, gripping the base of his skull. "You call that a fucking kiss," Dean breathes, and pulls Dmitri in to a deep, biting kiss that almost makes him forget they're not in the privacy of their apartment. Dean reluctantly pulls away when Dmitri's hands start to knead his ass. He kisses his husband's temple in apology when he whines, Dmitri's eyes mostly closed, his eyebrows scrunched together adorably.

" _Skoro, detka, poobeshchay_." Dean murmurs soothingly, scratching the base of Dmitri's neck lightly. He curls their hands together and lifts it to gently brush his knuckles against the underside of Dmitri's down-turned chin. "Hey," Dean whispers softly. "Tell me what's up? Why'd you run off like that this morning?"

"I didn't want for you to lose your family."

Dean lets go of his husband's hands to grip his head. He pushes their foreheads together and forces Dmitri to meet his eyes. "Don't you fucking get it?" Dean closes his eyes briefly, and a tear slips down his cheek. "I can't- you're my family too. I don't want to-" his teeth clamp down on his bottom lip, tears falling off his lashes. "You are my family," Dean says slowly. "And when we're done here, when we're back home, the first thing we're going to do is submit the application to adopt, so we can get our kid, okay?"

Dmitri, with tears of his own, nods his head vigorously. " _Da_ ," he says hoarsely. " _O bozhe, da_." His fingers grip at Dean's sides, sliding around so his arms encircle his husband's middle, and breathes in shakily. " _Svet moyey zhizni_ -"

Benny clomps over, holding a large Starbucks cup Dmitri was sure wasn't in the vicinity when he got to the airport. "Y'all ready to head out, or do I need to give you another few minutes?"

"Can we-" Dean closes his eyes and sighs. "We'll meet you outside, okay? Give us five more minutes."

Benny narrows his eyes. "I'll be counting down soon as I walk out the door."

"Noted," Dean says tersely. He doesn't move an inch from where he's holding on to Dmitri. Benny nods, and Dmitri can feel him glaring daggers at the back of his head as he walks away.

Dean tilts his head up to gently kiss Dmitri's lips when he hears the door swing shut. "You pull a stunt like that again and I'm gonna tie you to our bed."

Dmitri snorts and his heart glows when he sees Dean give a small smile. "That's not too terrible a punishment, moya lyubov'," he murmurs. " _Ty uzhasen v etom_."

Dean's smile takes a bitter edge. " _Mozhet byt' i tak_." He kisses Dmitri again, softly pulling at his bottom lip. "You really can't do something like this again, Dmitri. We're supposed to talk about things like this, okay?"

"Because we're married."

"Because we're a team." Dean loosened his grip on Dmitri's head and slid his palms down to cup his jaw, thumbs swiping the tear tracks on his husband's cheeks. "Because we promised, way before we got married, that we'd be honest with each other, because that was the only way we could stay safe."

" _Krasivik, moya lyubov'_ ," Dmitri's breath catches in his throat. He doesn't know what words to say, what he can do besides _be here_ and _stay_.

"I know." Dean places a gentle kiss in the middle of Dmitri's forehead. "And- and I'm not gonna say it's okay because it's not, at all, but if I'm- if we're gonna do this, I'm gonna need you with me the whole way, okay?"

Dmitri is on the brink of crying, again. " _Da_ ," he says hoarsely. " _Konechno_."

Dean nods sharply, eyes filling with tears if his own. He takes in a shaky, fortifying breath. "When we get back home, I want-"

Unfortunately for Dmitri's racing heart, he's interrupted by Benny bursting through the doors with a loud, curt, "Time's up; let’s go."  
________________________________________

Dmitri stays behind a bit, leaning carefully against the passenger side door of the rental car as Dean walks up the front steps of his parent’s house. He stops a few paces from the door and turns his head to look at Dmitri, who tries his best to give a reassuring smile. He isn’t entirely sure it reaches his eyes. Dean nods, almost imperceptibly, and breathes in deeply before rapping his knuckles loudly against the olive-green door. Dmitri sees the curtains of what must be the living room window flutter open slightly as a woman- blonde, with Dean’s nose and jaw- opens the door and cups Dean’s face in her hands before throwing her arms around his neck.

The woman pulls away quickly and adopts a defensive stance, spreading her feet and placing her hands on her waist. Dean’s shoulders hunch over, and his hands begin to wave around him. Dmitri lets himself smile; he’d grown to love the way Dean throws his emotions into his entire body, how he gesticulates at seemingly every syllable. Dmitri meets the woman’s eyes as she looks over Dean’s shoulder when she hugs him again. She lets go of Dean in an instant and Dmitri quickly averts his gaze to where his shoes ate scuffing against the curbside. It strikes him then, with his heart beating rapidly and the sound of blood rushing filling his ears; this is Mary Winchester. Dean’s mother.

He keeps his head down as someone heads down the path towards him, and hesitantly reaches out when Dean gently (also hesitantly, and Dmitri’s heart cracks) slides his palm around to cup Dmitri’s elbow.

Dean opens his mouth, then closes it, biting his bottom lip. The tip of his tongue flicks out to wet his lips, his teeth pulling at his bottom lip again. “My mom wants to meet you.”

Part of Dmitri is terrified and would rather face execution for desertion than sit across from Mary Winchester in her living room. But a bigger part, the part that loves her son, meets Dean’s eyes (hopeful, apologetic, guarded, crushingly beautifully green) and nods. “ _Poydem, togda_ ,” he says, in a forced, overly-somber tone. It fulfils Dmitri’s intended purpose, and makes his husband smile, even if it’s only a small upturn of his lips. Dmitri relaxes anyway, giving Dean a real, albeit wobbly, smile. “ _Moye serdtse - tvoye_ ,” he murmurs, tilting his chin up as a question and sighs in relief when Dean answers with a smile and a light press of his lips. “ _I moye vam_.”

Dmitri is startled out of their quiet, soft bubble by Mary Winchester calling from the porch, “If y’all don’t want your lunch to be cold, you’d better get inside real quick.”

“Lunch?” Dmitri whispers. Dean shrugs his shoulders, still smiling softly. “Grilled cheese sandwiches. I, uh, called her when I landed in Kansas City, and I guess I was still kinda hysterical, so, uh, she’s probably even less of a fan of yours than she was this morning. So…” Dean bites his lip again, casting his eyes downward, flushing sheepishly. “You’ve been warned.”

Dean’s hand moves down from his husband’s elbow to take Dmitri’s hand, lacing their fingers together. “Jury’s still out on my dad, though, so just. Tread carefully, y’know?”

Dmitri nods jerkily, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he tries to swallow down his nerves. “And your, uh, _vashi brat’ya_? _Znayut li vashi roditeli, chto oni_ -"

“Mom pulled it out of Sam,” Dean sighs. “And Adam and I were never really close, so I don’t think she even considered that I’d trust him with this, but he had to stay with us while he had that internship a few years ago, remember, so. He had to know, and I- I don’t know why I never told Mom and Dad, but I just couldn’t, okay, and I’m really sorry this is how you meet them.”

“Dean, _moy solnechnyy svet_ ,” Dmitri halts their progress, Dean halfway up the porch steps, his eyes wide. Dmitri lifts their hands and smiles against Dean’s knuckles. “ _Vse budet khorosho_.”

Dean’s shoulders relax, and his wide eyes soften a little. “I love you,” he whispers. “So much.” Dmitri ducks his head, smiling softly until he looks up again and sees Mary Winchester staring at them, blank faced but practically emanating hostility. She smiles pleasantly when Dean turns toward her and opens the door a crack. “Go on in, Dean, your father would like some help in the back yard.” She rolls her eyes good-naturedly. “God knows what he’s trying to do to the gazebo this time.”

“Last we talked, he was wanting to re-shingle the roof.” Dean kisses his mother’s cheek as he walks into the house. Mary lets out a put-upon sigh, and smiles tightly, patting Dean’s arm as he passes. “Well, at least keep him from falling and breaking a hip, will you?”

Dean laughs boisterously from the hallway, the sound giving Dmitri a small boost of confidence with which to face Mary Winchester. He turns his head to meet her eyes, and finds an icy fury that he barely refrains from flinching away from.

“Mrs. Winchester,” he starts, straightening out his spine.

“Mary,” she interrupts. “I suppose, if you really are family, then you should call me Mary.”

“Mary,” Dmitri says reverently. “I- if I could explain-"

Mary Winchester rolls her eyes, and the fire has softened a little, and Dmitri lets himself hope. “You’ve got your share of seven year’s worth to tell me, so we might as well move this to the living room, alright?”

“Thank you,” Dmitri says softly. “For letting me into your home,” he adds, when Mary raises an eyebrow. Her exterior softens, and she puts on an air. “Like I said,” she smiles, the first genuine one she’s sent Dmitri. “You’re family.”

“I-" Dmitri blinks back tears. “ _Spasibo_.”

Mary smiles again and holds the door open, tilting her head to the right like Dean does when he’s thinking over something carefully. “Well, come on then. Don’t give the neighbors any more gossip.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like for y'all to know that two thousand words, give or take, at twelve point- Times New Roman, single spaced, is equal to about four and a half pages on a regular printed sheet of paper. About the size of my final research paper for my college US History I course this year.
> 
> Also, I figured out the html for the hover text translations :) It means I had to retranslate everything, and even make a few changes because I didn't write down the original lines, but it was worth it to find out that the literal translation of "moy solenchnyy svet" means "my salty light" :) :)
> 
> I will, eventually, get around to editing all five previous chapters with the hover translation html. Eventually.

**Author's Note:**

> I am using Google Translate for all the Russian in this work, so if I have made any mistakes, please let me know!


End file.
